Xori • Tielfing • Blood Hunter • Huntress, Part 3

The gloom that surrounded the house on the hill was palpable from the outside. Inside, it was oppressive. Even with the heat from the fire, a cold dread made the air around them heavy, like the ghost of tears long cried hung in the air and clung to their skin. There was an invisible weight pressing in on them all, and none of it belonged to them. It lived in the house. It was confined. It lingered. Maybe the missus had grown tired of its stewing. Maybe she fled to fresher air.

Xori • Tielfing • Blood Hunter • Huntress, Part 2

Leaving the inn, Xori made her way to shop next door—The Magpie, a little hovel of a place stuffed to the brim with everything you could thing imaginable, but none of it particularly useful seeming. On the porch, there was an old chair, the seating torn and straw poking through. Next to it, a crate with the lid cocked open, pieces of parchment spilling out—recipes, instructions for tools and gadgets that were no longer nearby. The one on top lay unfurled with big block letters visible to any that walked through the door:

Note: Remember to tell customers to have a nice day!

Xori • Tielfing • Blood Hunter • Huntress, Part 1

“This is for you, Huntress.” A young halfling boy stopped her in the street, hand reaching out towards her, parchment clenched in his fist. Xori took the crinkled envelope from the boy, replaced it with a copper. The envelope had been addressed to her—her name scrawled slanted and skewed, but still identifiably hers all the same.

Renowned huntress, Xori,

Tales of your exploits and current residence in my village have reached my ears. I have great need for your services as a hunter and request an audience with you this evening. Please visit my manor on the hill at sunset.